


You Can Leave Your Hat On

by twitch



Category: Jersey Boys - Gaudio/Crewe/Brickman/Elice
Genre: Costumes, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6316357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why should all the kids have the fun? It’s one night, we wear suits almost every night of the year, we should mix it up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Leave Your Hat On

**Author's Note:**

> A Halloween fic, posted five months later. In my defence I had experienced a broken computer and ideas that weren't fully coming together until a month ago.

There shouldn’t have been any cause for alarm. The quiet of the room was much appreciated after their rushed arrival into the city. Someone may have overslept their wake up call but had been all too willing to hustle into the car, saving the shower until they arrived at their destination. Fortunately it didn’t take them long to set up the venue with their equipment or do a sound check. With a much needed shower later they had time to grab food before return to the concert hall, relaxing in the makeshift dressing room without a thing to worry about.

Aside from the fact that Tommy was looking over some papers. Quietly. Studiously. He could be quiet for innocent reasons but with the intent look on his face Frankie recognised trouble. It was a look saved for reading horse races papers or something else worth gambling on.

So there was some wariness that Bob picked up on. Looking between Frankie and Tommy, Nick occupied with fixing up his hair by the only mirror in the room, Bob hazarded to break the silence and increasing edge. “What are you reading?”

“You know we can’t be gambling on the road, right?” Frankie cut in, ready to get the first word.

“I know that!” Tommy didn’t look up from his reading though. “Do you have that little faith in me?” The snort from the vanity didn’t escape his attention. “No one asked you Massi.”

“Answering for Frankie, if he so lets me.”

“I do.” Frankie grinned when Tommy finally lowered the papers to glare at him. “So what’s so important that you’ve been reading it fifty times already?”

“That we’ve got a show in Chicago on November 1,” Tommy said, glancing back to the papers.

Bob would’ve nodded but decided that the answer was obvious for all of them. They had the run through of all their tour stops several times before hitting the road and on a weekly basis since. “We’re aware of that.”

“And the show before that one is October 30.”

“Yeah.” Apparently perfection was achieved because Nick finally turned away from the mirror. “And you’re repeating this for us because…”

“And we have a day off on Halloween,” Tommy added. 

“Also known as the day we’re driving into Chicago,” Frankie reminded.

“But it’s Chicago, and Chicago is a big city, and if we get there early -”

Frankie screwed his face up into a moan. “Oh God, don’t tell me you want to do gambling on a day off.”

“I want to party without having to worry about one of our shows finishing after the club closes,” Tommy corrected. Frankie’s expression changing from exasperated to confusion urged him on. “And on Halloween, in Chicago, there’s got to be at least one place hosting a Halloween party.”

Frankie looked interested but Bob was doubtful. “We have suitcases full of clothing, nothing that consists of costumes,” he reminded.

“Halloween is over a week away, we can look for costumes when we have time before Chicago,” Tommy pointed out. “Nothing fancy, we can check some nickel and dime stores, second hand shops-”

“We need to get into Chicago for the first. We won’t have time to get into Chicago after our last show,” Nick reminded.

“It’ll be easy.” Handing his papers off to Frankie Tommy spread his hands open. “Sleeping beauty here can do his sleep all morning routine so he can be fresh and ready to drive us after the show straight into Chicago. We can sleep in the car and I can search out a Halloween party once we hit the city.”

“And the other car is just going to drive itself?” Nick challenged, crossing his arms and side-eying Tommy.

“I’ll drive too,” Frankie offered with a nod.

“We’re set!” Smirking and pointing his finger at Bob, taking Nick’s non-refusal as agreement, Tommy knew he had won, or so he thought. Bob didn’t want to argue too much before the show and admittedly, it wasn’t the worst idea he had. “Why should all the kids have the fun? It’s one night, we wear suits almost every night of the year, we should mix it up.”

“And watch you put on a 1930s mobster get-up instead of your usual oiled-up gig?” Bob asked, settling back in his chair to give Tommy a pointed once over.

“Oh, I can be more original than that,” Tommy reassured him, smirk still firmly in place. “I’m just wondering how you’ll un-bland yourself.”

*

Tommy and Frankie made a visible effort to find costumes for themselves, visiting various stores in all the towns and cities leading up to Chicago. An item here, an item there, all in innocuous bags they guarded with secrecy or threats of losing eyes. If Nick had been shopping he hadn’t seen him. Bob had no interest, declining invitations from Tommy and Frankie each time they went out on their shopping expeditions. 

“Aren’t you planning on going out for Halloween?” Nick asked after Tommy and Frankie had rushed out from the hotel restaurant, leaving them to breakfast and coffee.

“I have other things I plan on working on. No one around to distract me will be a good thing,” Bob explained while he pushed some egg onto his fork. “How about you?”

“I’ve been picking up a few things here and there.”

“But I haven’t seen you go out with Frankie and Tommy.”

“I’m going to surprise them.”

“Ahh.” Quickly swallowing, looking across to Nick’s cheeky expression, he couldn’t help but smile. “They may have an idea what each other is going as, that’s true.”

Pausing from near sip, Nick cocked his head. “Won’t you want to know?”

“You know Tommy won’t hesitate to sashay his way past me at least twice in costume.”

“It’s more of a strut than sashay.” Nick hesitated from taking another drink. “Unless he plans on dressing as a woman.”

“I hope not.” That wasn’t the mental image he was expecting but now that he thought of it, and saw it, Bob chuckled. “And with heels on he’d think he’s bigger than he already is.”

“We definitely don’t need that,” Nick agreed only to pause again. “Though I wouldn’t mind watching him trip and stumble while trying to do heels.”

“That would be the highlight of my night.”

“And not writing your next concerto?” His coffee finished Nick stood up. “I’m getting a newspaper from the lobby, I’ll be right back.”

Despite all his best intentions Bob blinked, ideas related and unrelated to music starting to drift through his head.

*

He hadn’t planned on it. Even when the time came around he still hesitated, the clothes folded neatly in the bag on the foot of his bed. He glanced at it several times, counting down the hours until Frankie and Tommy would be leaving. True to his word Tommy did find a club that was hosting a Halloween party and he announced the departure time for all of them upon his arrival back at the hotel.

Leaving his room to ease his mind he came across Frankie and Tommy, playing cards to while away the time. “Where’s Nick?” Bob asked.

Frankie didn’t look up from his hand. “He’s resting up for tonight.”

“I’m surprised that you aren’t.”

“He’ll be recovering after he loses this hand – too.” Tommy jerked his foot back to avoid Frankie’s kick. “You got your costume ready?”

“I don’t have a costume.”

Frankie coughed indiscreetly. “So those bags you were carrying around yesterday and the day before was just food?”

“I never knew satin was edible.”

“Must be an acquired taste.”

“I might go out if I can find good company,” Bob countered back, smiling despite himself.

“Considering we couldn’t persuade him to go shopping we must not be good enough,” Frankie lamented, casting a dejected look in Tommy’s direction.

“What did Sleeping Beauty have to say to you to convince you to come out?” Tommy asked, peering up at him suspiciously.

“Something far more charming than you’d ever say.” Tommy scoffed disbelieving, to which Bob didn’t reply, ceding half the truth. It wasn’t the full statement that Nick said that got him reconsidering but a certain word sticking out. “And now you have to wait to see what I am dressing up as.”

Apparently the conversation hadn’t helped Frankie in the process of picking and discarding cards. Tommy laid his cards flat out on the table, a full house that had Frankie groaning. Pushing himself up and out of his chair he made his way to his room. “Right. I’m done here. Try and put Tommy in his place for me by beating him.”

A couple hours later, involving Tommy pouring them a couple of drinks each to get a head start on the party, plus earning back Frankie’s losses, Tommy declared that it was time to get ready for the party. Or decided that he wasn’t going to lose more money. He made his way to his room, only to protest at the open door. “Hey, when did he leave?”

“Who? Nick?” Bob followed him to the adjoining bedroom, just as surprised to find the room unoccupied. “Maybe when you were in the kitchenette? I don’t remember seeing him leave either. I guess we’ll be meeting up with him at the club.”

Something close to a sulk crossed over Tommy’s face though he wouldn’t acknowledge it himself. “I wanted to laugh at his costume before we got there.”

“He did want to surprise you and Frankie,” Bob pointed out, just a tiny bit satisfied that Nick got his way.

Tommy glanced his way, suspicion casting his features. “Do you know what he’s dressed up as?”

“No clue.” Patting Tommy on the shoulder he crossed the lounge to the other bedroom. “Have fun dressing up.”

Apparently Tommy and Frankie had perfected dressing with their full costumes at least twice because in the end they were waiting on him in the lounge. It didn’t help that he took more time than necessary looking into the mirror deciding if it was worth wearing the wig or not, on and off, then back on, before wringing it in his hands. The long blue coat and the matching breeches, definitely cast off from some local theatre company, local being three days past, were close to what he was looking for. White long socks and dress shirt with frilled scarf helped to finish the costume off. He never did find an appropriate hat but the wig alone could be a good substitute – if he wore it.

“Are you ready or not?” Tommy called.

Sighing, he relinquished one hand from the wig, making his way to the door. Steeling himself for Tommy’s laughter he stepped into the lounge, surprised to find two caped men waiting for him, the only difference being one wore a black mask around his eyes and a wide-brimmed black hat.

Squinting through his mask Frankie studied him for several long seconds, thankfully quiet for Tommy studying him too. “Sorry, I have no clue,” Frankie finally admitted.

“I’m supposed to be Mozart, albeit a taller version, but let’s just go with out-of-date composer,” Bob explained.

“I told you you were supposed to dress up.” Tommy ignored the swat to his arm that Frankie scolded him with.

“And what are you supposed to be? Zorro’s newest victim?” Bob asked, roughly positioning his wig on his head. If he was going to be out of date he’d wear the white hair to go with it.

Pulling his cape across his vest and high collar, Tommy narrowed his eyes in what he supposed was a mysterious expression. “Dracula…” he drawled with a passable accent. He dropped it and his cape from his hand. “I would’ve worn the fangs but they kept falling out.”

“What a shame.” Centring his wig as best he could without a mirror, using the little ponytail in the back as reference, he decided he looked as good as he was going to. “Did Nick come back at all?”

“No, I guess he decided to go early to the party,” Frankie commented, but even with his statement he didn’t look convinced. “Which is weird since he doesn’t do early or on-time unless it’s for Crewe or something business related.”

“Whereas I will do fashionably late,” Tommy stated, intervening for his own sake, not seeing the point about talking about someone not even there. “So let’s make our way to the party, which is certainly waiting for us. This guy can write about our exploits later.”

“I will never write about a vampire. I will never write about any kind of monster.”

There may have been safety in numbers but leaving the hotel felt somewhat odd. Had they been in a residential area they could’ve blended in with children but amongst other hotel guests they were the only ones in costume, one Zorro, one vampire and some man in search of a forgotten century. Walking to the club they at least weren’t being stared at any more, finding a few more costumed individuals who were either coming or going to other parties. 

“Why is no one laughing at you yet?” Tommy asked, although considering he was checking out a woman in a short toga it wasn’t a truly pressing matter.

“Luck?” Bob didn’t know and didn’t care, trying to avoid bumping off the fake sword that hung from Frankie’s side. “Are you planning on carrying your sword in the party?”

“As long as they don’t make me check it,” Frankie said, holding it as he bumped into Bob to accommodate other people walking past him along the sidewalk.

“I asked them already and they said no. Which is a good thing because we are here.” Tommy opened the door to the club. The music was loud within even though the sidewalk was relatively quiet. “Older gentlemen first,” Tommy instructed, holding the door open and gesturing with a smirk for Bob.

“Enjoy it while you can.” Refraining from telling him outright to shut up Bob was about to brush past him but thought otherwise, pausing to give Tommy a quick look. “And I can assure you I won’t extend the courtesy for you afterwards.”

“You’d think a man like you would have respect for his elders.”

Refraining from rolling his eyes, yet managing an amused huff under his breath, he made his way inside, eventually stepping to the side to let Tommy lead. Not that there was any way to get lost. The club was a decent size and filled reasonably well. He didn’t bother trying to label the costumes that surrounded him, preferring to watch the crowd, mingling with one another, drinking and dancing and conversing. The staff wore uniform black with colourful, albeit simple, masks around their eyes. Tommy fell into the crowd without hesitation, Frankie making his way in too. Unsure where to head off to first Bob decided going to the bar wouldn’t hurt.

He had just ordered his drink when he realised one flaw with his costume. He didn’t have any pockets and he didn’t secret money into his costume any other way. He was just about to tell the bartender that he wouldn’t be able to take it until a hand laid down several bills beside his drink.

“I didn’t expect to see a man of class in these parts. Or are you a bit lost?” 

Looking to the owner of the hand, unable to make him out for the dimmed lighting around the bar as well as the cowboy hat he wore, Bob gave a small smirk. “That’s putting it mildly…. but I presume you’d prefer a saloon to a club.”

“They’ve got alcohol, which meets my standard just fine.” Turning quickly to the bartender to order a drink of his own, the cowboy brought his attention back to him. “I’d say you’d be better off looking for a ballroom.”

“A music hall would be a better fit,” Bob explained, then decided not to leave the stranger entirely guessing. “I’m supposed to be a composer, not that anyone would truly know. Mozart.”

“Ahh.” A beat and the other man’s shoulders dropped, laughing lowly. “Wish I had something smart to respond to that with but I don’t know anything about Mozart.”

Bob grinned, decided to help him out. “I don’t know anything about horses or farming.”

“Well… neither do I.” 

With the second drink delivered they raised their glasses, not clinking them together but offering a silent salute. “An untrained cowboy without a saloon? You’re not doing well tonight,” Bob remarked.

“Considering that I’ve just met Mozart, and bought him a drink, it’s not that bad,” he countered.

“If you say so.” Moving away from the bar, walking closer and underneath more prominent lighting, Bob caught flashes of his face. At first he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things, the similarities that lingered. His hair was covered up by the hat, and he was around the same height, but the cowboy was managing a rather accurate western accent. He didn’t want to do a full once-over, not trusting his instincts, but finally he hazarded a guess. “Nick?”

The cowboy stopped alongside him, blinking, before straightening his head. “Bob?”

“That’s…” Now he couldn’t help but look over the full costume, fitted rough pants, boots, stripped button down, vest and a neckerchief tied around his neck. “Very convincing on you.”

Overcoming his surprise Nick laughed. “Your wig doesn’t look convincing on you. And one of your socks is slipping.”

Bob would’ve hastened to fix his sock but at that moment several people bustled past him, not giving him enough space to adjust it. “Tommy was waiting to laugh at your costume but he’s probably going to be jealous. He dressed up as a vampire. Frankie is Zorro though, which he pulled off decently enough.”

“They’re no match for a cowboy and a composer.” Fixing his hat, pulling it back enough that Bob could see in his eyes, Nick grinned. “Though we are something of an odd match right now.”

“Half a century off, not to mention different continents.” He really need to stop checking out his costume. “So… how long have you been here?”

“Not quite an hour. This is a nice place, talked to several people.” Nick leaned in a little, necessary for a couple behind them raised their voices in challenge of differing opinions. “And it’s a really welcome change talking with people who aren’t catering to you. Costumes come in really handy for that.”

That wasn’t something he’d stopped to consider before going out for the night. Bob looked around their immediate vicinity, wondering if he’d find Frankie and Tommy enjoying their one night of anonymity. He was sure they’d love it. He should’ve taken advantage of the opportunity but with Nick beside him he hesitated. 

It appeared that Nick read his mind, nudging him lightly with his elbow to put a bit of space between them. “Enjoy the chance to not be stuck with us all the time. I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s interested in learning about the classics.”

Bob snorted into his glass, taking a quick sip before looking around one more time. “I’ll look for you later.”

And talk he did, once he did start wandering the room. Apparently his costume was a benefit, not a dead give away to his identity that several people asked who he was. He nursed his drink, deciding that not looking for Tommy or Frankie for drink money was for the best. It helped that he had lost them in the crowd, a crowd that held a number of people dressed in black, servers and revelers alike. 

Losing Nick in the crowd was not as easy. Once in a while he caught him in his periphery, talking to someone else or a different gathering on several occasions. The vest suited him, or at least added a perfect finishing touch for the costume. He looked sharp, not that he ever looked shabby. Not that any one of them looked bad in a suit but that wasn’t the thought that primarily crossed his mind. Mostly sober as he was he was able to keep his mind unclouded.

Until a drink was ordered for him. Apparently his current conversation partner noticed that his outfit didn’t consist of pockets as well. 

Then Frankie did find him, bringing him a drink before clinking away, glass still raised and sword swatting him on the leg.

Eventually Nick made his way back to him, two glasses in hand. “Don’t want to leave you empty handed,” Nick explained.

“I haven’t been,” he assured him, taking the offered drink.

The Dorothy-dressed woman he had been talking to fluttered her gaze from him to Nick and back, finally smiling coyly. “Well, aren’t you two a pair. You make travelling back in time very tempting.”

“White hair notwithstanding?” Bob asked, feeling a bit flushed under the wig. If it hadn’t been for Frankie rushing him to consume his drink in two gulps before handing him the next one he would’ve been fine.

“It suits you,” she replied, taking the empty glass from his hand to set it down on a ledge. His hand free she slid her hand upon his forearm, leading the way to a table. “Would you like to join us Cowboy?”

During their conversation she had played enough with Nick’s neckerchief throughout to loosen its grip around his neck. The conversation continued, flirting done on her behalf and Nick not precisely refusing her advances. Bob didn’t return her affection towards him as overtly but allowed her to continue with friendly words and a smile on his face. He wanted to groan when Nick got up to get them another round but managed to keep quiet on that front, kept talking otherwise.

Nick came back just as she excused herself, sitting down a little unsteadily. Bob didn’t think he drank more so than he usually did partying but he had been responsible for driving them into Chicago. “Feeling tired yet?”

“A little but I can manage,” Nick assured him after a sip of his drink. If he was feeling rough around the edges, or looked the part, Bob didn’t see it either. If it had been there it worked for the cowboy angle. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to head back, I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with Dorothy? You could pull off a passable Oz,” Nick commented, playing with the glass with his fingers.

“I’m sure she would like that,” Bob mumbled, more loudly than he would’ve had she been there. “If she didn’t want to take a ride with a cowboy.”

Nick sighed, a sound lamenting had it not been for the corner of his mouth twitching. “And I without a horse.”

Liquor continued to make him louder than he intended. “I’m sure that’s an issue she’s willing to overlook.”

“As well as keeping two male company all to herself,” Nick added.

“You didn’t make the effort to rebut her,” Bob pointed out, sinking his fingers into his hair.

“Don’t let her see you growing your white out.” Swatting his hand away as though it was a fly Nick repositioned the wig, the empty chair between them only a minor challenge. Fingers caught his temple and cheekbone before the wig was back in place. “We don’t want her to see the man behind the Mozart.”

“The man behind the Mozart is…” Drunk. Wistful. Taking too much interest in neckerchiefs. “Tired.”

Nick took a longer sip of his drink, eying him worryingly. “Do you want to go back?”

“After this drink, yes.” Taking a sip to match Nick’s he leaned back into his chair, catching sight of the gingham dress re-entering the room. “After we send Dorothy back to Kansas.”

It was fifteen minutes later when they left, Nick even going as far as tipping his hat to her and placing a kiss to her knuckles. A charming if not predictable move coming from the cowboy. He would’ve use a lasso to drag Nick away but he was quick to follow so Bob found he had no real reason to complain.

Except the air was somewhat cooler than it had been several hours before. His cheeks may have been warm but his hands grew cold more quickly than he expected. “Do you think Frankie and Tommy have already left?” Bob asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Frankie, maybe. Tommy, definitely not.” Nick took the hat off and before his hand even came up to his head his hair was already mussed, nowhere near it’s usually impeccable style. Bob’s hands froze for an entirely different reason. “He’ll be there until the club closes.”

“Good.” He didn’t think he could manage many more words than one or two at a time so he pressed his lips together, gaze snapping forward, not as resolutely as he needed.

By the time they were back at the hotel the hat was back on. Back in the safety of their suite he took off his wig, knowing his hair had to look as rumpled as Nick’s. He didn’t think much of it, his priority to think of sleeping off the alcohol but his gaze landed on the sitting room, specifically the table where Frankie and Tommy had been playing their game. The cards were still there from the game he had played with Tommy. Managing a bit of a snort he was about to veer towards his room when he realised he wasn’t as tired as he wanted to be. “Do you want to play cards? It’s not a saloon but it’s… as much cowboy as you’re going to get in a hotel suite.”

Nick shrugged, looking towards the kitchenette then to the room that Bob shared with Frankie. “Ask if Frankie wants to play.”

Bob took the few more steps needed to knock on the door. “Do you want to play a game?” Getting no answer he opened the door to the unoccupied room. “Frankie’s not in.”

“Do you want a drink?” 

Another drink was the last thing he needed. “Not really.”

He was glad to see that Nick had as much interest in going to bed as he did. Looking around the room again, his gaze settling on him, Nick cocked his head. “Anything you want to do?”

Setting his wig down on the closest surface, whatever it happened to be was unimportant, Bob forced his fingers to still. “Take off your hat.”

If the request was odd Nick didn’t say anything against it, setting his hat on the top of the closest chair. “Anything else?” he asked, a small smile pulling on his lips.

It took three steps until he was in front of Nick. At first he didn’t know what he wanted but standing before him hesitation vanished and he took a hold of disheveled hair to pull Nick into a kiss. If he had been confused it lasted half a second until Nick was curling his fingers into his equally messy hair.

“You think this is what Dorothy wanted?” 

“Don’t - even - talk about her.” Never mind that Nick wasn’t stopping from kissing him back, the brief seconds between giving him the only chance to rush words out.

“Even if this did cross my mind tonight?” A quick but no less sharp nip to his lip did a similar tug low in his stomach, heat washing away the remains of the cold night. “No girls mentioned or in sight?”

“You are not helping.” Mental image fresh in his mind Bob freed one hand to grab hold of the neckerchief, trying to untie it. All he managed to do was get his fingers tangled, hanging on for dear life when Nick closed the space between their bodies and hardened the kiss. 

“I thought I was.”

“You could show me how to get this off you.”

Bob could feel the chuckle, Nick’s chest against his, and with the low rumble of words he gripped the scarf tighter. “Is that all you want to get off?”

A shudder roiled through his body. “No, not at all.”

“So where do you want to start?”

“Bedroom.” Not relinquishing his hold Bob wheeled around, backing up towards his room. There wasn’t a need to pull Nick along, he was following his lead as soon as the word was uttered. No directions needed to be spoken, they were still kissing up to the door and inside, Nick freeing one hand to grab the doorknob.

Barely paying attention to whether the door was shut Bob started on his promise. The troublesome neckerchief was ignored in favour of things that he knew he could handle, buttons deftly popped open, vest pushed off as an afterthought once the shirt was unbuttoned. Before Nick could get to his own jacket Bob had turned them around, pushing Nick to the bed, keeping his hands on him to support him getting up after him.

The door was open enough to let the light in, making it easier to shed clothes, Nick pulling Bob’s jacket back and down until he was sliding his arms free. Bob wasn’t yet close to get the scarf off Nick though Nick had managed to undo enough of the shirt to get the ruffles out of the way from getting to his neck. Starting below his ear, sucking lower and lower, he nipped at his shoulder once he had worked more buttons undone. “Are those pants as hard to get off as they look?”

“They weren’t what I would call easy.” However he did know of the hooks and buttons that were sewn to the inside of the waist, unseen from the outside, so he did them as quickly as possible. Once they were loose Nick was pulling them down, allowing him to pull Nick back up by the scarf for more kissing, moving in time with the rocking of their hips. “I think I want you to wear this now,” Bob admitted, rolling the fabric around his finger.

Nick pulled far enough away to test how much lax his hold allowed, breath catching short before he controlled himself. At least his breathing returned to normal, his gaze hooded and burning. “You want to show me what you want?” 

He hadn’t considered that but thinking on it in the present it seemed like a good idea. Anything that involved Nick looking up at him, equally as turned on and ready, straining and flushed under him, looked increasingly good, outright perfect. His hands were still on his hips but he could change that. “Take off your shirt,” Bob instructed, voice steady despite eagerness ready to do a number on him far too soon.

Message received loud and clear the shirt was off, allowing him to take in the chest that the vest and shirt hinted at. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before, many times in fact, but this was for him only, solid even though not overly muscled. “Anything else?” Nick asked, lifting his chin up in challenge.

“Get me off.” The words were out of his mouth faster than he expected but he didn’t regret them, not when the corner of Nick’s mouth turned up, half surprised but compliant if the nod that followed was agreement.

“And how do you want me to do that? I could give you a blowjob…” Nick drew his hand down his hip, skin tingling where nails dragged, no where close to where Bob needed the attention. “Or a handjob, whatever you want.” 

“Hand job.” Maybe he’d take him up on the other offer later. The thought of later nearly made him laugh, the sound only dying when Nick took hold of him, the grip alone enough to make him buck and moan. “Yeah, definitely that.”

His pants were pushed down only a few more inches, more to ensure that that they weren’t in the way. He wasn’t about to complain either way, or for the brief second that Nick took to spit in his hand. The next second his hand was back on him it stroked with an upward twist. A couple strokes just to get the movement right before fingers searched the spots that forced him to brace one hand onto the bed lest he collapsed entirely on him, weak spots exploited and making him crave more and non-too quietly.

“That’s what you want?” Nick asked, chuckling even as he helped to steady him, other hand coming up to his waist.

“It’s- it’s a start.” What Nick planned on doing as a follow up hadn’t been on his mind but he knew however it ended was not going to be a disappointment. Rocking into his grip, shuddering and trying to swallow back the louder whimpers that threatened to escape, he dipped his head down, gaze dropping further to watch fingers flex and stroke, his gut churning in time. “A very, very goo – ohhh, yeah.”

“Have I only started? Or is there something I’ve forgotten.” The insinuating tone Nick used was doing as much, if not more, to affect him than just his hand. Lifting his head up another inch, their faces closer again, he spoke over his lips, breath hot as he dragged his thumb heavily from bottom to top. “Maybe you need to give me some more instructions.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, gasping for the little space between their mouths, he tightened his grip on Nick’s neckerchief before releasing it on a spasm, slick hand doing more things to have him choking desperately, thrusting harder. Hand landing on his chest, fingers digging in, Bob struggled to steady himself with weakening limbs. “I need - down. I need to get on the bed.”

Surprisingly Nick’s breath was coming out fast, if the movement of his chest was any indication. “Anything else?”

“If I could think any clearer I’d be telling you what I wanted,” Bob moaned, cursing helplessly as Nick wouldn’t stop touching even as they managed to reposition themselves, Bob finding himself on his back. Clear thought wasn’t needed to instinctively spread his knees to let Nick fall between them, hand finding the grip that had his hips bucking off the bed. “Not that you’re doing a bad job on your own.”

“Good instincts I guess,” Nick supposed.

“Lucky.” Writhing on the bed for the ministrations may have meant that this pants were shuffling further down his thighs but the shirt was bunching up against his spine. Struggling to pull it off worked to twist his body further into Nick’s grip, tightening and stroking and driving him almost entirely off the bed. Nearly shouting he blindly grabbed the neckerchief, grasping air before he found one of the tails. Smothering his next cry with a hard kiss his other hand found a different place to hang onto, squeezing Nick’s butt. Satisfied for the moan that he could feel bubbling up on the other side of the kiss he broke away, gasping but smug. “You need this as much as I do, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” Nick tried to stay unmoved but another squeeze of his hand had his face shuddering, a small smirk coming out to match the one Bob gave him. “What do you want me to do about that?”

Bob cocked his head, his smile broadening slowly. “I could just give you permission to let you figure that out.”

“Not even a suggestion from you?” Nick asked, to which Bob only gave a closed-lip chuckle in response and a shake of his head, though a few rough upward strokes had him gasping and moving his head for a different reason. Bob barely heard a contemplative murmur, let alone the adjustment of zipper and button. “Well, if it’s all in my hands as of right now…”

Fingers loosened from their grip when he felt Nick’s hand adjust, broadening for a wider girth. Additional heat and weight had him looking down, biting his lip on a groan upon seeing his length alongside Nick’s, sliding against his as they each moved with the strokes, Nick slightly stilted until Bob helped to push down his pants enough to allow for more ready movement. Reward was instant, weight bearing down as he rocked up. Gripping hot skin Bob bit into his shoulder, hoping, and yet knowing it was helpless, to hold out longer. “Nick – almost...”

Another twist and Nick returning a bite to his own shoulder, his own shirt tossed to the side, was all it took. Forehead pressed to Nick’s shoulder, unsure whether he had shouted for the rush of release clouding his head, he watched hazily as Nick stroked him, milking it out, shudders and all, coating his hand and his own erection. “Are you almost…. there?”

“Close.” Pulling back a little, letting him go to let him settle back on the bed, Nick’s own pleasure took shape, but even with each sound and twitch of his face and body he regarded him, seemingly waiting. Bob knew that he could say something, hesitated at all the words that came to mind, before stretching his hand out, wrapping it over Nick’s, working with him but chasing skin with his thumb where Nick’s wasn’t. Hips hitching once, then twice, Bob dragged his thumb over the tip, kneading just before he came.

Nick had little more ability to move than he did, shuffling to lie beside him, pants still hanging from his hips. Bob tried to make himself comfortable but with his own pants further down it wasn’t exactly doable. “Why didn’t we take off all our clothes?” 

“You seemed to be in a rush, as I recall,” Nick commented, pulling his pants up somewhat once he was on his back. He didn’t need to make himself decent, not after what they had done, prompting Bob to snort under his breath. “Are you hurrying to get dressed now?”

“I don’t plan on keeping this outfit.” Deciding that was the whole truth he pulled off the pants, or at least tried to. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes. Shoes and socks tossed to the floor the pants followed, although he tugged his underwear back up. 

Nick hummed aloud, eyeing the shirt the ruffled shirt between them. Picking it up he wiped his hands off, tossed the shirt to the growing pile. “Good thing some things don’t change over time.”

“What about second times?” Glancing sideways to Nick he was surprised to see him sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. He hadn’t thought his statement had toed the line, any lines that may have existed had already been crossed, but where had he guessed wrong? “Are you going?”

“No, but – oh.” Shaking his head, realising his error, he walked back to Bob’s side, bending down to press his lips to his, the fingers carding through his hair reassuring for the short kiss. “But Frankie’s stuff is going to go to Tommy’s room, unless you want him to watch what happens next.”

“Ah, no, certainly not.” Chuckling at his nervousness he settled back down, watching Nick gather up his suitcase and bag. “Will you be bringing your things over?”

Making his way to the door, nudging it wider to slip through with the suitcase, Nick stopped to nod. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Folding his arms behind his head, admiring long back and slightly drooping waistline as Nick stepped out of the room, Bob pitched his voice after Nick. “Bring your hat back when you do.”


End file.
